


You Can Always Count on Yourself.

by VaultOfMelkurMistress



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Banter, Delgado saves Missy, Gen, How Missy survived that ship, Master survival, but their idiot, the doctor is an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22283881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaultOfMelkurMistress/pseuds/VaultOfMelkurMistress
Summary: The Master Distress Call activates when Missy is close to death - Delgado picks it up and saves her. A quick, lighthearted little story.
Relationships: T - Relationship
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35
Collections: A Mayhem of Masters





	You Can Always Count on Yourself.

The Master glanced up from his book with a frown at the unfamiliar sound, accompanied by a glowing red light on his console. It took him a moment to process the sound, unaccustomed to distress calls and unsure why such a little used system would have activated at all. 

He casually boosted the power, uncertain why it was difficult to get a lock on the origin of the coordinates, and always enjoying a challenge. After making adjustments to his monitoring equipment, he froze as a Gallifreyan symbol appeared on screen - one single letter, but a concept he had himself toyed with just a few lives ago. One single letter, the initial of his name, which would alert himself throughout his entire timeline if he were in mortal danger.

He picked up the pace - activating a process within his TARDIS memory banks, to ensure his knowledge would be retained. The knowledge of his continued existence filling him with a greater sense of urgency, and dare he admit, considerable hope. It took him longer than he would have liked, and annoyed at himself, he thumped the console hard in frustration until finally, _finally,_ the coordinates locked and he activated the teleport. 

He stared as Missy’s form quickly appeared, staring up at the ceiling, her eyes wide and her back arched in pain. She gasped and winced at the feeling of air rushing into her lungs as she took a breath.

The Master stepped forward quickly, kneeling beside her as her scanned her with a small hand held device, his hand on her shoulder.

“You’re flooded with laser energy, what happened?”

“Shot...us…”she stammered, trembling as the pain seemed to spread throughout her.

The Master wasted no time, sliding his arms underneath her and lifting her up, ignoring her cries of pain that the movement caused her. Rushing through his TARDIS to the medical room, he placed her straight onto a table, taking little care with her clothing as he worked to reach the wound quickly. Missy barely registered through the intense pain, that he was ruining her favourite outfit, but moments before she lost consciousness, she focused on a button falling to the ground and spinning for what felt like an impossible time while he pulled her blouse off hastily.

The Master, failing to unclasp her corset, rolled her over with an annoyed huff as he realised her clothing was just far too complicated and he needed to loosen the back before he could open the front and remove it. The singed material near her lower back showed him the location of the wound and after yanking the ribbon holding her corset closed, he began to pull it carefully open.

With a look of distaste - mainly directed at the failing shielding on her corset, he peeled the rigid material carefully from her body, working immediately on the burn to her lower back. As he made headway, she simply watched him calmly as they both made fleeting eye contact - he, as he focused on studying her wound and her as she glanced around the place that used to be her home. They both shared a quiet fascination with each other, and it was only when she hissed as he finished cleaning the wound that he even remembered that she was in pain. 

He gave her a sympathetic smile and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing in reassurance as he left her for the briefest of moments and returned with pain relief. As soon as he administered it, she fell quickly unconscious. He continued his work then, still in silence. Slowing as the urgency passed, his fleeting looks becoming longer appraisals; her choice in clothing, makeup, hair - so much hair. He was impressed with her overall look - and the technology build into her corset. He wondered what idiot had managed to breach her shielding.

Finally, she was stabilised and he breathed a sigh of relief, assured that he had secured his continued existence yet again. Reaching up, he stroked back the hair that had stuck to her face as broke into a sweat, and pulled a sheet up to cover her somewhat.

Scanning her once again, he felt satisfied that he had discharged most of the laser energy and that her regeneration energy, although still inhibited and unstable, was beginning to recover.

“Sleep well my dear, I shall check on you soon.”

Missy woke two days later, rousing in a haze of confusion from her healing coma. Her eyes opened to the familiar sight of her medical room - from a very long time ago. She sat up slowly, gathering her senses as she came to the realisation that her corset had both failed her and saved her at the same time. She remained still, tired but satisfied that she quite safe exactly where she was.   
  
An hour later, she had felt recovered enough to sit up and immediately through her sheet off as she swung her legs around and carefully stood up. Looking down at herself as the cool air hit her legs, she realised she was only wearing her blouse and underwear - her blouse when loose from the confines of her skirts, long enough to reach mid thigh. She had vague sense that her blouse had been ripped off in the understandable haste, but her buttons were all reattached and it appeared immaculate again now. She smiled, knowing her past self would dislike seeing himself in torn clothing and appreciating the effort of repairing her clothes. 

She left the room, slowly walking through the TARDIS corridors, a warm sense of familiarity washing over her as she made her way by instinct to the lounge. 

He looked up as she entered, placing his book on the table beside him as he stood, crossing the room and taking her hands in his, a warm smile forming fast. 

“How very good to see you up - how are you feeling?”

“Oh, much better, thank you my dear Master,” she said, her eyes filling with warmth as a considerable fondness took her over. “Might I say how very good it is to see you again. I’m Missy, shot for mistress - thought the Doctor would find that amusing, but no.”

“I suspect, my dear Missy, that you had to spell it out for him?”

“Oh, how _did_ you know?” she said with a light laugh. 

He took hold of one hand and walked her to the comfortable lounge chairs beside the fireplace. A pot of tea stood ready and two cups and saucers waited beside it. She smiled and sat, pulling her legs up on to the chair and settling comfortably to her side.

“Thank you for your excellent work - your future is quite well,” she said with a smile.

“I am indeed, happy to hear that,” he said, as he poured their tea. “How ever did you come to be shot with something that could penetrate that level of shielding?”

“Ah, well - funny story!” she began, then grimaced. “Or not...our little distress process comes with memory retention so best not. Needless to say, it’s our fault and we really were not thinking with the rational part our brain.”

“Hmm,” he said, sipping his tea. “Was the Doctor there?”

“Well, _yes_ , but not at that moment, we did this one...all by ourselves and all alone with ourselves.”

“Oh, how very alarming - and does the Doctor believe you are dead, do you think?”

“Well, possibly. I don't know what happened after I hit he ground, but he was busy sacrificing himself to save a bunch of people - the usual nonsense,” she said.  
  
"Still the same sentimental old fool then!" the Master chuckled with a fond smile. "Did we at least create the situation whereby he had to die to save them?" he asked with interest.

"Weeeeell, we did have a little bit to do with it, one of us did anyway, but I could have saved him and sorted that whole mess out - but we didn't let ourselves," she said, frustrated and more than a little sad. 

"Well, my dear Missy, we shall have a new Doctor to torment! How invigorating! I do not assume, my dear, that he ever takes me up on my offer?”

“Which one?” she asked in amusement.

“The one where we could be accomplishing such heights together!”

“You mean did I marry him?” she asked. 

“No - much more exciting!”

“Well, sex with the Doctor is hardly new ground for us!”

“I meant - will he ever take the half share of the universe that I would very much like him to have?”

“Oh honey, I raised all of humankind from the dead for that man - did he even say thank you?”

“I am assuming the answer here is no.”

“You assume right honey. He wasn’t even grateful and it was a birthday present,” she said.

“Why, the ungrateful man, he never learns does he?”

“No, he does not! He’s good, we’re bad and he won’t even suck it up and say: thank you for the thoughtful gift, I can see you put a lot of work into this.”

“Hasn’t that always been our wish? I had hoped we would eventually get some acknowledgement from him,” the Master said. 

“Oh he is impressed and he loves us and wants us - he is just very bad at telling us and has that whole, ‘you’re bad’ thing going on. I waited for him for over 70 years, not murdering a single person, and it was awful! I was so _bored_. The boredom was very hard to endure and he developed this ridiculous not hugging me stance - can you imagine? The audacity of that man!”

“I can indeed! Seventy years of waiting for him and not killing any tiresome humans and he didn’t even hug you? Or a kiss? As you will recall, he can’t go long without a kiss, even when he’s annoyed by my amusing games.”

“I know honey,” she said, sipping her tea. “You had more love in those years than I had in decades. It’s not fair - but he couldn’t fight it at the end there - he warmed, a little too late for me.”

“You mean to say after decades of waiting for him he didn’t demonstrate his appreciation in the manner we would like?”

“Nope. But plot twist - another of us was there, so the game changed.”

“And I hope, you had far more than a hug,” he chuckled in amusement, 

“Oh of course, many times, two solid weeks together - we most certainly appreciated each other _quite_ well.”

“Very good - will you be returning to the same point in time that I found you in?”

“No, that entire day was a colossal mistake - I just want to go home - haven’t been home for almost a hundred years - can you give me a lift?”

“Of course, but do tell me one more thing?”

“I will do my best, my dearest,” she said with a smile.

“Does he ever know - about the rings we hid in my console room - or the wedding day we planned?”

“No,” she sighed. “We are an idiot.”

“Well, perhaps this new lease of life will spur you on.”

“Perhaps it will - I suspect he regenerated, I will hunt him down once I’m home, go say hi, point out all the alive people around me, and propose.”

“Humans not being murdered feels like an ideal wedding present - how could the Doctor ever refuse?”

“Well, there’s the fact that the Doctor is an idiot, more so where we are concerned.”

“How very true!” he chuckled, looking at her fondly. “Yet...he is most certainly, our idiot.”

They both chuckled, their tea growing cold as they talked, sharing stories and amusing anecdotes about the Doctor - quite frankly, their favorite topic and one they wold not bore of, _ever_.

  
  



End file.
